The Price of Failure
by The Wrath of Revan
Summary: With the help of the Courier, Mr. House had seized control of the Mojave. But when four scattered strangers find themselves stranded in an unfamiliar land, the denizens of the West will have to contend with a force older and more powerful than Caesar's Legion. Bolin X Korra, Courier X Lone Wanderer.
1. Prologue

**The Price of Failure**

**Prologue: Reflections**

July 22nd, 2283

From the audio logs of Rory McKinnon

Dear journal, today was boring, just like most every other day. Ever since House and I booted the NCR and the Legion out of the Mojave, that's the way it's been…well, usually. Some fiends attacked Freeside, but without any leaders, the Securitrons thrashed them before I could even suit up. Such a disappointment. There was that one time a Legion raiding party crossed the river and teamed up with a squad of disgruntled NCR Rangers. That was pretty fun, mostly because I actually got to fight them, unlike those fiends.

…I know that I say this every time, but by heaven do I miss Amy. Heh, I can just remember the day we met. I was a member of the Outcasts, in the Capital Wasteland, curse both of 'em. There we were, getting slaughtered by muties, when outta nowhere, this crazy girl comes sprinting onto the battlefield with a shotgun and a dog, and she just annihilates them. I mean, I'd been in the Outcasts pretty much since I was born- you know, raised in the middle of some real hard types. But this girl, man, she made us look like amateurs. Of course, I'm a sucker for a pretty girl with heavy weaponry. Man…that was six years ago, can you believe it? Ever since I had to run, I've worried every day about her. Acting as a spy…every night, I just have to hope that she hasn't been caught and killed…or worse. Every night, I have to sleep in a bed that feels empty because she isn't in it. I have to believe that she's okay, and that she's going to come back to me one day. I believe it because she told me that day…Every time I get one of her letters, I make sure to keep it safe and sound in the lockbox on my desk. Maybe I'll show her that collection when she gets here, eh?

…But enough reminiscing. I'm still bored. Maybe I'll hang out in Freeside for a while, see if the Kings need anything. Hey, maybe if I'm lucky, I'll meet someone new! I sure hope so.


	2. Chapter 2

** Alright, first crossover! I love Fallout, and I **_**adore**_** Legend of Korra, so I thought, why not see if they're two great tastes that taste great together? Anyway, without further ado, I present…**

**The Price of Failure**

**Part I: Separate Threads**

Mako's day could have been going a bit better, all in all. He was used to the relatively cool climate of Republic City; wherever he was now, it was hot and dry. A firebender though he was, he preferred the cold to suffocating heat. The manacles around his wrists were staring to chafe a bit too.

He grasped the iron bars of the cell he was being held in and rattled them as hard as he could.

"Hey!" he shouted. "You wanna tell me why I'm in here? Or are you going to let me dehydrate just a bit more?"

A man was sitting in a chair across from the cell Mako was imprisoned in. He wore a heavy-looking tan uniform with a bandolier slung across his chest, along with a pith helmet on his head and a pair of dusty goggles around his neck. He looked at Mako with the same impassive face he had shown the entire time he had been sitting there.

"Look, kid, as soon as Jackson gets in here, we can get this all sorted out, and I'd wager you can leave. Until then, just keep your cool and sit down." He cocked an eyebrow at Mako. "And let me tell you something- if you feel like getting uppity and goin' all burning man or whatever, don't. We want information, but the NCR doesn't take kindly to assaulting its soldiers. And personally, I wouldn't lose a wink of sleep if we filled you with lead."

Mako grimaced, and reluctantly sat back down. Going "burning man", as the soldier had said, had been tempting, but these people had some sort of weapon that he had never seen before. Through the tiny window in his cell, he had seen the tan soldiers mercilessly slaughter opponents wearing crimson with them.

For now, he would wait.

* * *

Rory McKinnon was living the high life. He sat in the cocktail lounge of the Lucky 38, nursing a glass of wine. Things were definitely looking up compared to his past self. Two years ago, he had been a lowly courier, delivering a package to New Vegas. Intercepted in Goodsprings and shot in the head…events had certainly taken a turn for the better. With Rory's help, Mr. House had secured Hoover Dam, the Strip was as vibrant as ever, and there was finally hope of advancement for the Mojave Wasteland.

Plus, he had picked up a new friend in Freeside, a sparky brunette named Korra. Said she was from Republic City; he had no clue where that was, but hey, the wastes were a big place. Maybe it was in the Commonwealth. Or in Texas, or somewhere. Honestly, he could care less where she came from. What mattered what that she had seemed a bit lost, though not in the least vulnerable. Korra sat next to him on a bar stool, opting for a Nuka-Cola instead of scotch or vodka.

"Okay, Rory," she said, spreading her palms questioningly, "one thing I don't understand are those Security-thingies."

"The Securitrons?"

Korra nodded. "Yeah. Those. What are they? I mean, I've never seen anything like them."

"Uhh, robots? They're kind of everywhere."

Korra gave him a deadpan stare that silently said that was hardly helpful.

"Okay," Rory said, taking another sip of the wine in his glass, "I take it you've never seen a robot before."

"Took you that long, huh, genius?"

Rory stroked his ginger beard for a second. "Okay, I'll try to explain. A robot is..uhh…okay. A robot is an artificial life form created when someone writes a program that can dictate how they'll respond to the world around them. They can be programmed for fighting, for domestic work, whatever. A robot is a very useful tool."

Over by the window, ED-E bleeped angrily in protest.

Rory put his hands up. "Except for you, buddy, except for you. Anyways, so that's what a robot is. The Securitrons are Mr. House's robots that act as security on the Strip and around the New Vegas area. That clear things up a bot? Err, a bit?"

Korra scratched the back of her head. "I guess. Okay, that answers the question of what the Securitrons are, but I still need to find my friends."

Rory nodded. "Right. What were their names again? Bolin, and, uh…"

"Bolin, Mako and Asami," Korra finished for him. "We got separated, and I have no idea where they are now. Can the Securitrons help at all?"

Rory was about to answer when the face of Mr. House popped up on the viewscreen that sat on the wall.

"I believe we can do that, Miss Korra. You see, you have displayed some very interesting abilities, according to my lieutenant here. Your comrades possess the same abilities, do they not?"

Korra blinked in confusion a few times before responding. "What, you mean, can they bend? Well, I mean, Bolin and Mako can, but Asami can't."

Mr. House's face remained static. "I see. Could you possibly show me what they look like? Do you have any photographs of them?"

Korra furrowed her eyebrows in thought. "Photographs? You mean, like, with a camera? Cause I don't have a camera, but I could draw them for you."

After being handed a pencil and a pad of paper, Korra quickly sketched three painfully bad portraits of Mako, Bolin and Asami.

"Well, that's…better than nothing, I suppose. Since the NCR and Legion have been routed from the Mojave, my Securitrons can search all the way from the Dam to the Mojave Outpost. If your friends are anywhere in the Mojave, rest assured that we can find them, and bring them back here." House's face winked out.

Rory turned to Korra and grinned. "Don't worry yourself," he said. "I get the feeling that your friends will turn up perfectly fine."

* * *

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Bolin was backpedaling as fast as he could, but the monster chasing him was faster than anything he had ever seen before, and it could lunge an impossibly far distance. The beast was over ten feet tall, with a horns curving forward over its head. Its legs were thick with muscle, but those weren't what concerned Bolin. What concerned Bolin were the long lanky arms the thing had, and more specifically the terrifyingly large and sharp claws at the end of those arms.

The thing lunged again, and Bolin instinctively shot a chunk of stone at the monster. It hit it square in the chest, knocking it back temporarily. Bolin turned and sprinted as fast as he could away from the beast. Despite that, it was back on its feet in the blink of an eye, and rushing after its prey once again. Bolin tried to turn around and attack again, but a stray rock tripped him up, and he fell over backwards. Thing monster lunged again, and Bolin closed his eyes and flinched.

But he didn't hear the sound of claws slicing into flesh. What he heard was a resounding _crack!_ that echoed through the canyon. He opened his eyes, and saw the animal lying in a heap directly in front of him, a grievous wound on the right side of its head. He turned to the source of the sound, and saw a man in a brown uniform, with two bandoliers slung across his chest, and a bright red beret sitting atop his head, which was closely shaven. In his hands, he held a long, black, metallic weapon of some sort.

The man looked at Bolin. "Hey," he said. "Looks like you had a bit of a close call there, pal. You okay?"

Bolin jumped up and ran over to the man, hugging him tightly. "Oh man!" he yelled."You saved my skin, lemme tell you! Okay, new best friend! Well, maybe second best friend, but definitely in my top two!"

The man squirmed uncomfortably. "Hey, look, pal, I'm glad you're okay, but keep shouting like that and you'll wake up every single deathclaw in the quarry!"

Bolin coughed and backed away sheepishly. "Well, uh, thanks again. Oh!" He held out his hand. "Name's Bolin- pro earthbender and almost deathclaw chow. That's what you said that thing was, right? A deathclaw?"

The man nodded, and shook Bolin's hand. "Yeah, that's them. Name's Boone, Craig Boone. Not quite sure what an earthbender is, but I'd guess it has something to do with that thing you were doing to the deathclaw. Never seen anything like that before."

Bolin cocked an eyebrow. "You mean you've never seen a bender before?"

Boone shook his head. "Is that what you are? Anyway, if I had, I'd have told you, don't you think? Also, what exactly are you doing in Quarry Junction at high noon? Not really the safest place in the Mojave to be."

Bolin folded his arms and frowned. "I wish I knew. Me, Korra and my bro Mako were sitting in City Hall. It was some sort of big meeting. Don't know why they needed us; I mean, Korra's the Avatar, so I guess having her there makes sense, but we had been asked to come too. Anyway, we were sitting in there, and bam! Felt something hit me in the head, blacked out, and next thing I know, I wake up with Ugly McSmellsalot sniffing me like I was a big bowl of catgator stew! Thanks again."

Boone nodded. "Okay, I got most of that. But you said someone was that avatar?"

"Yeah? What about it?"

"What's the avatar?"

Bolin stared at Boone. "You're joking, right?"

Boone shook his head stoically.

"You know, reincarnates whenever the previous one dies, been going on for thousands of year, can bend all…four…elements...Huh." Bolin scratched his chin. "I guess if you've never even seen a bender, not knowing who the avatar is isn't much of a stretch."

Boone looked over Bolin's shoulder. There were several deathclaws that had heard the gunshot, but hadn't seen the duo yet.

"Okay, Bolin, what say we scramble before any more deathclaws try to hug you? I'm on my way to New Vegas; you can come with me if you'd like. You'll have to explain the rest on the way."

Bolin turned and froze. "Uh, yeah, I have no idea where New Vegas is, but anywhere's better than here! Let's split!"

Boone and Bolin quickly made their way down the sandy slopes leading away from the Quarry to the road, and started off toward the Lucky 38 that was visible off in the distance.

* * *

Doc Mitchell leaned back in his chair and cleared his throat.

"Whelp," he said, "I think I've patched you up as best I could, so I can't see any reason to keep you any longer. I put all your things in that footlocker next to the door, so you can feel free to pick it up on your way out. Oh, and I also took the liberty of giving you a few stimpaks, so if you get injured, you should be okay."

"Thank you, Doctor. It means a lot. I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you."

He shook his head. "Not at all, Miss. I'm the doc, after all. It's what I do."

Asami stood up from the couch and handed Mitchell the clipboard that had her medical history on it.

Doc Mitchell chuckled. "You know, you're a lot like another fella I patched up not too long ago. He was roughed up a bit more than you, but he had a real fire inside him. Anyways, I'd figure you've got places to go, people to meet, that sort of thing." He started to put his tools in the bag next to his feet. "So what's next for you?"

Asami thought for a second. "Well, finding out just how I got here is important, but for the moment, I'd say I need to find my friends."

Mitchell nodded. "I can understand that. A fella needs his friends, after all. Good luck to ya, Miss."

Asami nodded. She walked to the front door, and took her things out of the footlocker. As she opened the door, a brief pain shot through her left arm where the wounds had been. As quickly as it came, it was over, and Asami brushed it off. She stepped through the door into the Mojave wastelands.

Step one: Find the team.

Step two: Find out how to get back to Republic City.

Asami sighed and frowned. She had no idea where to start looking for information on the others. Still, she had a job to do, and she would do it. When she looked out toward the horizon, the sun quickly setting, she saw a city of bright lights, and a tower that was taller and brighter than the rest. That was probably New Vegas, the city that Doc Mitchell had talked about. If there was information to be had, that was where she would get it. She grimaced, and strode forth into the wastes.

**Well, there you have it. Part one of The Price of Failure! Criticism is welcome, and suggestions even more so. Also reviews. Reviews are good.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello once again, audience! When we left off, I was promising Part two, and hey presto! Here it is, almost as if by magic! Anyway, I'm going to stop rambling and give you the story now.**

**The Price of Failure, Part II: The Envoy**

In retrospect, it probably hadn't been the smartest of ideas to set off into a completely unfamiliar territory just as night was beginning to fall.

"Hey, there, girly." Asami flinched as the man put himself right in her face. It was apparent that he hadn't brushed his teeth in a very long time, though considering the state of the landscape, that wasn't especially surprising. "You know, it ain't safe wandering around here this time of night. Some real…unsavory types roamin' around. Why doncha come with me, I'll make sure you get somewhere nice and safe."

Asami involuntarily shuddered in revulsion. "No, thank you, but I'm quite fine. I can manage on my own perfectly well." She put her right hand behind her back.

The man, who was obviously under the influence of…something… frowned, his unkempt facial hair coated with filth. "Aw, come on now. I ain't gonna hurtcha, I'm just lookin' out for ya, y'know? Makin' sure nothin' bad happens to a fine-lookin' girl such as yourself."

Asami grimaced, clenching the fist held behind her back. "As I said, thank you for your…kindness, but I'm going to have to insist that you leave me be."

Upon hearing that, the man's face contorted into a snarl. "Ain't you got any manners, girly? When a man offers to help you, you don't just turn him down!" He pulled a switchblade out of his pocket. "I'm thinkin' I should teach you some manners. Yeah, I'll teach you nice and-"

That was as far as the junkie got before Asami's left hand shot around the back of his head, gripping his grimy hair tightly.

"Ow!" he shrieked. "Whaddya think yer doin'? Cut it-"

Asami interrupted him. "I think it's time you shut up, creep." She thrust her Equalist-gloved right hand against the man's face, and sent a thousand volts coursing through him. He shrieked in pain, muscles spasming before slumping to the ground, unconscious. Probably. She shuddered, and walked away from the raider. That's probably what he was, after all.

Asami sighed. One thing was rapidly becoming clear: this world they had found themselves in was not the one they knew, and getting back to Republic City was going to be a bit more difficult than finding it on a map.

* * *

"Are you serious?"

Rory was surprised at the level of tenacity Korra was beginning to display.

Korra held her palms out like he was a moron for asking. "Of course I'm serious, idiot. Why would I ask if wasn't? Is it so much to ask to accompany a scouting party to look for my friends?"

Rory tilted his head. "Well, it might be if they encounter a couple of deathclaws or a Legion raiding party. The deathclaws will just kill you. St. Monica forbid you encounter the Legion, 'cos you'd rather not know what they do to the women they capture!"

Korra winced, but remained defiant. "Hey, I'm not exactly weak, you know! I'm a pro bender, I can take care of myself. Even if we do encounter deathclaws or the Legion or whatever, I'll be fine!"

Rory groaned in frustration. "You know what? Fine. Okay. Feel free to go out in the wastes and search for them. But I'm coming, too, you hear? Two heads are better than one and all that." As he spoke, the brogue in his voice, a remnant of his childhood, grew more pronounced. "But we'll need to take you to the armory, 'cause I'd guess you'll be wanting something a bit more protective than the hides you've got now."

Korra bristled. "I know what it is. You think I'm not tough enough, don't you? That's what you've thought ever since you met me!"

Rory slapped his face in frustration. "Fer God's sake, lass! I'm sure you can handle whatever the Mojave has to offer! There's nary a point of contention there! All I'm sayin' is that it couldn't hurt to let someone more familiar with the wastes come with you!"

Koora shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry, I…didn't mean to be rude. I'd love for you to come with me, okay?"

Rory sighed. "All right, I shouldn't have gotten riled up, either. As a few of my mates will tell you, it doesn't take a lot to fluster an Irishman. Or it doesn't take a lot to fluster me specifically. Anyway, let's get down to the armory. There are a couple of things I think you'll like."

As the elevator descended into the basement, Korra looked to one side. "Thank you, Rory. This means a lot to me."

The Courier grinned and put a hand on Korra's head. He hadn't realized how tall the girl was until now. He himself stood a hair over two meters, and the crown of her head was at eye level for him. "Well, what else could I do? Leave a fine lass like yourself swinging in the wind? No, I'm glad to help you. Eager to meet these friends of yours too." The elevator dinged, and the door opened to the cavernous room that was the armory. "Well, here we are! Take a look around, see what you like."

Korra's grin looked rather maniacal to Rory. She was going to enjoy this room. The first thing her eyes locked onto was the intimidating suit of T-45d Brotherhood power armor on a rack to the left of the room. She rushed over to it, putting a hand on the cool metal.

"Ooooh, this I like. It's scary as all get out! I could knock some serious heads in this!"

Rory walked behind an opaque changing screen , tossing his shirt and pants over it. "Trust me," he said, "it's way too heavy for someone like you. You could walk around just fine, but acrobatics like the kind you say you do would be out of the question. Try looking in the light armor section, to the right."

Korra frowned. "Fine. Party pooper." She meandered over the section that held various lighter-looking armors. She saw a set of black leather armor that had been reinforced with some sort of faded green animal hide. She took it off the rack, and walked behind the changing screen. It fit surprisingly well. It seemed like it would afford a good amount of protection, and she could still move around like she would normally. She did a few stretches to put it through its paces and within a few minutes, she was as comfortable in it as she would be in her own clothes.

Walking out of the light armor section, she saw Rory sitting at a table with bladed weapons strewn across it. He wore a sleeveless duster with an emblem of a star circled by thirteen other stars on a blue background sewn to the back. On his head he wore nothing save his usual pair of eyeglasses, showing off his short ginger hair. He was polishing what appeared to be an oversized knife. He turned to look at her and grinned.

"You look marvelous, Korra! Gecko leather suits you perfectly!"

Korra blinked. "Gecko? You mean like a turtle-gecko, right?"

"What?"

"Or like a gecko-sloth, or a lion-gecko?"

Rory shook his head in confusion. "Wha…?No, just…gecko."

Korra was silent for a second. "This place is weird."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You're one to talk. Not sure I'd want to see what a lion-gecko looks like. The golden ones are bad enough as it is!"

Korra took a look at the duster Rory was wearing. "Speaking of armor, where'd you get that?"

Rory looked down at chest. "Where'd I get…Oh, the duster, you mean? It was given to me by a friend a long time ago. Meant a lot to him, but he said he wanted me to have it. Also, while we're on the topic of friends…" he pulled out a small silver weapon, what he had called a gun, from one of the holsters slung around his hips. The handle had what looked like lizard skin on it. "This is a pistol from another of my friends. Helped him out near Zion."

Korra squinted, and she saw some sort of engraving on the weapon's barrel, but she couldn't tell what it said. "What's that writing?" she asked. "I don't understand it."

He flipped weapon so he was looking at the barrel. "It's Greek. I can't pronounce it in the original language, but in English it says, "_The light shineth in darkness, and the darkness comprehended it not._" It's served me well."

"Let me guess," Korra said, picking up the larger gun on the table. While it was bigger, it was smaller than some she'd seen, and it was fairly stocky. "You got this from one of your friends too, right?"

"Hmm?" Rory looked at the gun. "My marksman carbine? No, I didn't get that from a friend. I just saw it on sale and liked the way it looked. I do love that gun to pieces, though."

Korra nodded, then looked at the elevator. "So, are you ready to go?"

Rory scratched his beard. "You don't want any weapons?"

Korra shook her head. "Nah," she said. She flicked her wrist, and a ball of flame appeared. "I've got all I need right here."

Rory nodded, and stood up, holstering his pistol and slinging the marksman carbine across his back. "Then I guess we're ready to go. After you, Miss Korra."

* * *

"How did all of this happen?"

Boone and Bolin were walking past the NCR sharecropper farms as the sun rose high in the sky once again. "How did what happen?"

Bolin gestured grandly, indicating the world around them. "This! How did the world get to be like this? All broken, and, and…I dunno, messed up?"

"You're not from around here, are you?"

"Uh…I guess you could say that. I get the feeling that Republic City isn't on any maps you've got here."

Boone shook his head. "Nope. You might as well have come from a different planet for all the stuff you're talking about. Benders, and avatars, and equalists…it's all Greek to me."

"Different planet, huh? Okay then," Bolin said, folding his arms. "Treat me like an alien, 'cause I guess that's what I am. If an alien came to this planet and asked you what had happened, what would you tell them?"

"Hmm…"Boone pondered the question for a while as they walked along I-15. "Okay."

He took a deep breath. "So this is how it is. The civilization you see here and now isn't how it always was. The Old World, the civilization before this one, existed a long time ago. It had existed for thousands of years. They were constantly advancing in the fields of science, medicine and technology. But as humans are liable to do, they turned all of these advances to advance the art of war. War…war never changes, and neither do the people who wage it; just the tech surrounding it. The U.S. and China went to war over dwindling resources, and at that point it was only a matter of time until it all went downhill. The two countries had reached a stalemate. Then, everything changed when the fire…wait, no. When it seemed like there was nothing either of the countries could do to break the impasse…that was when the entire planet was incinerated in nuclear fire. I don't know who started it, but I hardly think it matters now. What matters is that thousands of nuclear bombs were dropped by each country in an attempt to break the other's backbone. All it accomplished was turning the world into hell on earth. When it was all over, the planet was changed forever, into what you see around you. It's been over two hundred years since that incident, and we're only barely starting to rebuild."

Bolin's normally cheery expression was uncomfortably solemn. "You mean…the whole world was destroyed?"

"Most of it. One thing humans are better at than killing each other is staying alive when it's not easy. The entire world's infrastructure was broken beyond repair, but there were still humans left behind. And they went on surviving. They made do in the irradiated ruins of what had once been home."

Bolin rubbed the back of his neck. "Wow. That's…that's crazy. I can't even imagine the world ending like that. It must have been terrifying."

Boone shrugged. "Wouldn't know, I wasn't around," he said, deadpan. "The Mojave's what I've known my entire life, and all in all, I think it's an okay place to live. Even if the NCR's been booted out of the Mojave, Mr. House is running things pretty smoothly, and it's better than if the Legion was calling the shots, that's for sure."

After walking in silence for a few more minutes, Bolin said quietly, "You know…I don't even know for certain that my bro and friends are here. It's-"

"Shh." Boone held up a hand for silence as he drew the anti-materiel rifle slung across his back, then peered through the scope. "Looks like we've got some mercs. Might not be too friendly, so let's play this-"

"Korra!" Bolin shouted, swinging from depressed to ecstatic in an instant. "That's Korra! I'd know those vibrations anywhere!" He grabbed Boone's arm to drag him along. "That is some kinda convenient! Come on, man, come on! Let's go!"

Bolin broke out in a sprint while Boone settled for a jog- the rifle was more than a tiny bit heavy, after all. The former NCR sniper chuckled quietly to himself. This was quite an odd twist of fate.

* * *

Rory was manipulating the map on his Pipboy. "Okay," he said to Korra, indicating a location marker, "I thought we might try Novac first, since a lot of traffic comes through there, and-"

"Korra!"

Rory looked up from his map, and saw two figures walking together in the distance. Korra looked up at the sound of her name, and saw one of the figures dashing towards them.

"Who in the world…" Rory shaded his eyes with his hand in an attempt to see who the figures were, but Korra started laughing.

"I can't believe it!" she said, pumping a fist in the air. "I just can't believe it! One down already!"

Rory started to ask what she meant when she took off in a dash, leaving him in her dust. He tried to catch up, but the girl was ridiculously fast. Who exactly was this person?

* * *

Korra absolutely could not believe her luck. Before, she hadn't even known for sure that the rest of the gang was even here in the Mojave, but now there was Bolin, and she would be hard-pressed to be happier. If he was here, then Mako and Asami had to be there too! And now that she knew they were here, it was only a matter of time before they were all reunited again.

She crushed Bolin in a bear hug, lifting him off the ground. When she set him down, he instantly returned the favor, laughing giddily.

"I can't believe it!" Bolin said, wrapping his arms around her in a rather more tender way. When she looked at him, he was grinning like a Cheshire catgator, but tears were misting his eyes. "I can't believe it, Korra. I actually found you! I was so worried about, about you and, and, and bro, and Asami, but you're here! Which means _they're_ here, Korra! They're here…" He wiped his eyes dry and put his head on her shoulder. "And..it's really good to have you back."

She put a hand on his hand and smiled. "You too, Bolin, I really missed you a lot." She looked into his green eyes and pressed her lips against his. He kissed back, hugging her against him. He felt her warm breath against his cheek, her fingers entwined with his.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Bolin broke away from Korra, his face turning a luminescent shade of red. Korra turned to look at Rory crossing his arms and smiling mischievously. "Oh, come on, Korra," he said, chortling. "All I got was a 'hi, who are you, where am I', and this guy gets a full-on tongue tussle? Hardly seems fair to me."

Korra cleared her throat awkwardly. "Uh, sorry, Rory, I guess I should, uh, introduce you. This is Bolin, one of the people I was looking for. "

Rory stepped forward, extending a hand. "Rory McKinnon, former courier for the Mojave Express, current second-in-command to Mr. House. Nice to meet you, Bolin."

Bolin shook his hand tentatively. "Hi. Name's Bolin, like she said, and I'm a pro bender, and I, uh…" He turned to Korra. "Sorry, tiny bit lost here, who is this guy?"

Korra laughed softly. "He just introduced himself, didn't he? This guy found me wandering around and offered to help me look for you and the others."

Boone jogged up beside Bolin, eyes scanning over Korra. "So this is one of the people you were looking for?"

Bolin nodded, grinning. "Yup, she's the one and only Avatar! That makes one down, two to go."

Boone saw the Courier and nodded. "Rory," he said in greeting.

Rory nodded back. "Boone."

Bolin got flustered for a second, looking quickly back and forth between the two men. "Wait a second. You _know_ each other?"

"Sure do," Rory replied. "Helped Boone out with a…problem of his. He traveled with me for a while."

Boone adjusted his glasses. "Yeah, Rory's a personal friend. We met in Novac. I was back there visiting before I started back to New Vegas and saw you scrapping with that deathclaw."

Rory held up a hand. "Hold up a sec. Deathclaw? There aren't any deathclaws around Novac."

"Well, I decided to take a detour around to Sloan, and take I-15 from there. I was near Quarry Junction when I found Bolin here."

Rory looked quizzically at him. "Sloan? Why?"

"To visit an old friend."

"But who do you…oh, I get it," Rory said, grinning. "It was Snuffles, wasn't it?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Aaaaaand that cements it. You were totally in Sloan to check on Snuffles."

"Whatever you say."

Rory turned to Korra. "Anyway, getting back to business. Now that we've found one of your group, I'd wager that you're more fired up about finding the rest than you were before. Right?"

Korra grinned and smacked a fist into her open palm. "Oh, you bet your life I am!"

He turned to the others. "Boone? Bolin? You in too?"

Boone simply nodded. Bolin did a fist pump. "You know it! Let's go!"

And with that, the small group started a journey through the wastes that would lead to a singularly pivotal point in the history of the Mojave.

* * *

"Name?"

"Mako."

Ranger Jackson peered at him through tinted glasses, inscrutable and impassive. "Last name?"

"I don't see how that's important."

"Look, boy, we're trying to be reasonable here, but you're gonna have to work with us. To start off with, mind tellin' me why you were in the found you in the middle of a Legion raiding party?"

Mako sighed in frustration. "Look, I already told you I don't have a clue how I got here. I don't know about the NCR, or the Legion, or whatever. I'm from Republic City, in the Earth Kingdom."

Jackson took a breath. "Yeah, well, I don't know what or where Republic City or the Earth Kingdom is, so I guess that makes us even."

Mako grimaced, the manacles chafing terribly against his wrists, behind his back. "Oh yeah. This is totally even. Glad we worked that out."

Jackson ignored the barbed comment. "Okay then, what about these abilities Moreau said you have? Something about controlling fire."

Mako rolled his eyes. "I'm a firebender. Not exactly rare where I come from."

"That being Republic City."

"Oh good, you do have the capacity to remember things from more than one sentence ago."

Jackson bristled. "Listen, kid, insulting me isn't gonna do you any favors. How do you control fire? Is it some sort of weapon?"

Mako sighed, annoyed. "It's genetic. My father was a firebender, and my mother was an earthbender. I inherited my father's ability, and my brother inherited my mother's."

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "You've got a brother? Is he here too?"

"Look, I don't know. I hope so."

Jackson adjusted his hat. "Okay, then. I just got a few more questions before-"

He was interrupted by a subordinate rushing into the hallway, sidearm drawn. "Sir!" he said, saluting. "We've got a squad of Securitrons approaching the Outpost from the north! What should we do?"

Jackson cursed. "Okay, first of all, get back out there and hold them off as long as you can while we evacuate the civilians, and then we'll retreat to the Long 15." The subordinate ran out of the room, and Jackson stood to do the same. "Alright, kid, stay here and we'll-"

Mako jumped up, revealing the melted links that connected his handcuffs. He stuck two fingers through the bars directly at Jackson.

"I don't think so," he said, looking the Ranger in the eyes. "What's going to happen here is different than what you want. You've got two options: you can unlock the cell door and let me go, or I can turn you into a pile of ashes and burn my way out. Go ahead and choose, I'm fine with either one."

Jackson snarled. "Why you little sonova-" he tried to draw his gun, but Mako shot a small tongue of fire past his head, singeing his hat. He growled, and then finally got the message, reaching into his pocket and tossing the key into the cell. "Get out. If my men ever see you again, they aren't gonna try to take you alive."

Mako smiled. "Thank you kindly." He picked up the key and unlocked the door as Jackson ran out. He casually strolled through the corridors, whistling cheerfully, until he found the door that led to the wastes outside. He opened it, and blanched at what he saw in the afternoon heat.

NCR troopers lay strewn about the compound, most in varying positions on the road to death. Many had lost limbs to some sort of explosive. Those that could still fight had retreated, taking cover behind stone fortifications, attacking the metallic blue monsters that rolled about on a single wheel. Whatever they were, they were slaughtering the troopers mercilessly and with ruthless efficiency.

One thing Mako knew for certain was that he had to get away _now._ If trained soldiers were being mown down, there was a good chance the same would happen to him. He leapt over the wrought iron fence that, according to the position of the sun, was on the north side of the compound. A long, winding road filled with the wreckages of a hundred cars stretched out before him, leading into what looked like a dry lakebed. He had no idea where it would take him, but at the moment, anywhere was better than here. He started to jog down the path when he heard one of the contraptions wheeling towards him from behind. He jerked his head around to see.

"Halt!" the thing said in a synthetic-sounding voice, holding one of its black, tubular arms out towards him.

Mako reacted instinctively, and slung a bolt of lightning at the Securitron. Blue sparks arced all over the robot's body, and smoke coiled up out of the top. Finally, the thing collapsed in a heap, and Mako was off like a rocket down the road. He didn't know where he was going, but he would get there fast.

* * *

"The reports were right, Brigadier General," said Corporal Jack Taylor, staring through a set of binoculars at the rapidly retreating figure. "They definitely did capture someone very special. At the very least, he just created a bolt of lightning out of nothing. I'd say that's worth taking a look into."

The general nodded pensively. "Yes, I suppose you're right," he said in his characteristic twang. "But the scouts said there were others, correct? Others who can control the elements?"

Taylor nodded. "Yes, sir. At least one other person like him has been seen in the Mojave." He turned to look at the man running down the road. "Should we capture him, sir?"

The general shook his head. "No. I have a hunch that he and the others are probably connected by more than abilities. He will seek them out, I am sure of it. When they are together, that is when we will strike. Never let it be said that Augustus Autumn does things in half-measures. When we take them, we will take them all. Then, the Enclave can begin research into their abilities, and we will be able to take back the west."

** And there you have it! Part two of The Price of Failure, which I hope will…hmm? What's that? Makorra is canon as of Endgame? Ha ha! That's crazy. Crazy talk is coming out of your mouth right now! Anyway, I have big plans for the Eastern Enclave in the Mojave, so look forward to it! Until next time, this is THREE DOG, awooo-wait, no. This is your friendly neighborhood author, signing off!**


	4. Chapter 4

**[Insert witty opening and apology for lateness here]**

**The Price of Failure, Part III**

**Behind the Throne**

Mako knew he had made the right choice running from the NCR. What he wasn't so sure about was the path he had taken. He had fled from the Mojave Outpost down the trail of wrecked cars, and it had split off into two roads, one that led east, and one that led north. Neither gave indication that they led somewhere significant, so it was down to a coin toss. Heads, east; tails, north. There was also a vast, dry lakebed that stood in front of him, but he had no desire to go stumbling around there.

Heads. Then it was east. He took off his jacket and fashioned it into a makeshift turban to provide some measure of protection from the heat to his head. He took a deep breath and started walking east, away from the glaring desert sun. He noticed that he felt just a bit short of breath here, a bit weaker than usual, like he had gone too long without eating or something. As unfriendly as the NCR had been, they hadn't neglected to feed their prisoners, so it wasn't hunger. Probably just the sun. As soon as he found some shelter, and some water, he would be fine.

Before long, sweat began to sting Mako's eyes. He wiped it away with a dirty hand, which only gave him a brown streak across the left side of his face. Time lost meaning to him as he slogged along the blistering pavement. There was nothing in front of him but sand, nothing behind him or to his right or to his left but sand, sand and cacti.

Was he going to die here? It was an odd thought to pop into his head, but he was too tired to care about its morbidity. He could survive another day or two without water. Maybe. He sighed. What he wouldn't give to have Korra here. Actually, at this point he would even be grateful to have Tahno. Any waterbender would do, someone who could draw tiny particles of moisture from beneath the sand for a drink of water.

At about the time that he was contemplating the lack of sense in travelling during the day in the desert, Mako spotted silhouettes of buildings in the distance. A grin crept over his face, and despite his steadily growing fatigue, he started to run, stumblingly at first, but then steadily, faster and faster, towards the beautiful bastion of civilization-

-and then he saw them. Lining the road, dozens on each side, were wooden poles, sticking up from the ground, with a perpendicular crossbeam near the top. He didn't know what they were, but what they did wasn't of concern to him at the moment. On the crosslike construct in front of him hung a man, arms spread wide and tightly tied to the crossbeam with coarse rope. His feet rested on a shoddily constructed platform that was far enough down that the man could only touch it with the balls of his feet. There was another rope tied around his legs at the ankles, pinning him to whatever this thing was.

Upon looking at this man, Mako lost all pity for himself. He was clearly dehydrated, and barely conscious. How long had he been hanging here? That wasn't important right now, he decided. He quickly burned through the rope binding the man's left hand, and was about to start on his right, when he heard a gruff voice from behind.

"Halt. That man is a criminal by the order of Legate Lanius. By aiding him you will make yourself a criminal as well."

Mako turned around, incredulous. Then he saw the soldier wearing crimson- the same color as the ones who had been routed by the NCR. What had Jackson called them?

"You're with the Legion, right?" he said warily.

The soldier gave him a deadpan look. "And people sit in chairs. See? I can state blatantly obvious things too. And like I said, step away from the prisoner. Now."

Mako stayed right where he was. "What's your name?" he asked.

The soldier hesitated, slowly going for the small gun holstered on his hip. "Proventus Avenicci, a guardsman for the Ninth Legion. Look, step away from the prisoner or I _will_ shoot you."

Mako turned to face the soldier. He flicked his wrist, and his right hand was wreathed in flame.

"You listen to me right now, Proventus Avenicci." Mako's voice was low and silken. "Maybe you're faster than me; maybe not. But I guarantee you if you draw that gun I won't hesitate to burn you to cinders. I'm not sure you've noticed, but you've got a man crucified here, and I'm not about to let that slide. Release him, and that'll be the last of it. But try and stop me, and at least one of us will die."

Avenicci's hands started to tremble slightly. "L-look, I can't let him go. The Legate will kill me if I do! Or worse…"

Mako's face remained impassive. "Or I can kill you now. Go ahead, it's your choice."

The two of them stood deathly still, Avenicci's right hand looking like it was about to go for his sidearm at any second, and Mako clenching his fiery fist, ready to attack.

Suddenly, Avenicci acted. Time slowed down as his right hand went down, and he ripped his pistol from its holster. Mako jolted in reaction, and his fist burst into life. After a split second that seemed like an hour, his hand made contact with the soft tissue under Avenicci's jaw; a flaming uppercut sent the guardsman stumbling back, dropping his gun. Avenicci fell onto the dirt, clutching his burnt jaw and groaning weakly.

Mako sighed tiredly. "Oh, suck it up. You'll be fine in a day or two." He turned back to the man hanging on the cross, quickly burning through the rope holding his right hand in place. As soon as the rope was burnt through, he slumped over onto Mako's shoulder, weak and delirious. He helped the man onto his feet, supporting him on his shoulder. Water, the man needed water. But Mako didn't have any. Unless…

He turned to Avenicci on the ground. Sure enough, clipped around his belt was a dark green canteen. Mako plucked it off him, weighing the thing. About half full. He was so thirsty…but the man needed it a lot more than him.

"C'mon," he said, putting the container to the man's lips. "Drink up." He poured a bit of water into his mouth, and he began to cough and sputter before grasping the canteen himself and taking a big gulp of the lukewarm liquid. His breathing became more regular, and the prisoner finally fully opened his eyes, brushing filthy strands of blond hair from in front of his face.

"Hey," Mako said to him. "You alright?"

After a brief silence, the man nodded. "Yeah, I…"he coughed. "I think so. Thanks a lot. You saved my life."

"I couldn't really just leave you hanging there, could I?"

He shook his head. "No, you could have. People have come by before and just stared at me before leaving. You're the first to try and help. I owe you my life, so…thanks."

Mako nodded slowly. "Of course. But since I did save your life and all, can I at least get your name?"

The man turned and looked him dead in the eye.

"My name is Arcade Gannon."

* * *

Asami was not feeling stellar. She had headed north from Goodsprings toward New Vegas, but that had quickly turned out to be a tough road to travel. After her encounter with the junkie, she had found a nest of some sort of mutant moth-wasp things. Thankfully, she had given them a wide berth, and they left her alone, but whatever they were, they creeped her out. She skirted the main road that headed north, because she had seen some things that scared her even more than the giant bugs. They were like demons, with curved horns and elongated, reptilian heads. To top things off, they had the biggest claws she had ever seen. Fortunately, she had seen them through binoculars at a great distance, so they hadn't spotted her, but she wouldn't take any chances with things like those. On her way to the shining city, she had passed a plain-looking parking lot, along with a bombed-out collection of houses and a singular house that seemed mostly intact. She had continued stoically on travelling for hours before she saw a walled compound. She bit her lip. This could either be good or really bad. Was it worth the risk of finding out who was in there, especially when New Vegas was so close?

Finally, she shook her head, and walked past the metal doors, above which hung a sign that read "McCarran". She looked at the walled city itself, wondering where exactly she was going to find an entrance. She was absorbed by the thought until she heard bursts of gunfire coming from ahead of her. She quickly ducked behind a pile of rubble, furtively looking for the cause of the commotion.

She saw a group of filthy men and women, numbering in total about seven, facing off against two metal monstrosities of some kind. What had Doc Mitchell called them? Securitrons. The raiders took potshots at the robots with small pistols and bigger guns of some kind. Whatever they were using, it wasn't fazing the Securitrons at all. One of the wheeled sentries raised a metallic arm before peppering the attackers with bullets; one fell to the ground, clutching his stomach. It gave the others pause, and not ten seconds had passed before they were all fleeing the scene, with the exception of the one who had been shot-it was clear he was dead.

Asami felt nauseous-she had just seen a man killed, and the Securitrons were turning towards her hiding place! She bolted up into a standing position, hands held up in surrender. The Securitrons wheeled towards her, and her gut froze. They stopped in front of her and she flinched visibly.

"Go about your business, citizen," one of them said in a metallic, monotone voice, before rolling away. Asami breathed a sigh of relief.

"Those things sure don't hesitate to kill, do they?"

Asami turned around at the unfamiliar voice. Behind her stood a man dressed in a gray military suit of some kind, with one half buttoned over the other. He also wore an officer's cap of some kind. He had kind grey eyes, and what brown hair she could see was cut very short. He looked to be in his mid-twenties.

"No, they don't. But…well, they _were_ being attacked," she replied. "May I ask your name?"

The man gave her a precise salute, and smiled warmly. "Corporal James Nicholas, ma'am. A pleasure to meet you."

Asami couldn't help but smile at his unflinching earnestness. "The pleasure is mine, Corporal."

He shook her hand firmly. "If you don't mind me asking, ma'am, what are you doing out here? This obviously isn't a real safe place to be."

She frowned wistfully. "Well, you see…I'm looking for my friends. We got separated a while ago, and I need to find them. I figured that New Vegas would be the best place to start looking, but…well, getting there hasn't been particularly easy."

The corporal's eyes lit up. "Ah! I might be able to help you out, then! If you'd like, you could come with me back to our base camp. I'm sure we could help you find your friends. We've got a fair bit of resources at our disposal, so if anyone can find them, ma'am, it'll be us."

She didn't know what it was, but something about this man made Asami want to trust him easily. Maybe it was his kind demeanor, or something else, but whatever it was, she had a feeling he could really help her. She nodded. "Alright, Corporal, thank you very much."A thought occurred to her. "Say, what military are you part of?"

He tipped his hat and grinned. "Proud member of the Enclave, ma'am. Now let's get you back to base."

* * *

"Boone! Take the second floor windows; get as many as you can! Korra, I need you and Bolin to force them into Boone's line of fire any way you can. I'll take care of any that get past him."

On the road to Novac, as they were passing through Boulder City, the group had run headlong into a _centuria _of eighty legionaries, who had immediately tried to capture the four of them. They took refuge inside the general store, barricading the door, but it wouldn't last long against the strength of eighty well-trained soldiers.

"I am Agrippa Aurelianus, Decanus of Caesar's Legion! Surrender yourselves and you will not be killed! Continue to resist us, and we will-" His sentence was cut short as his head exploded into a mess of chunky salsa. The rest of the _centuria_ scattered and took cover behind walls and buildings.

"That's what you get for standing still, you moron!" Rory heard Boone yell from upstairs, and he snorted a laugh before he saw something arc through the air and land in front of the door.

"Grenade! Take cover!"

Korra and Bolin just looked at him, apparently unaware of what a grenade was. Korra had only started to open her mouth when the explosion splintered the door and knocked the both of them onto the ground. Through the dust, Rory saw two footsoldiers , each carrying a bundle of C4, sprinting toward the door.

"Boone! We've got explosives, take 'em out!" He pulled out Joshua Graham's pistol and took aim through the cracks in the door made by the grenade; the soldiers were at a hundred feet now, and closing the distance fast. He fired, hitting the left soldier in the chest. He stumbled but kept running. He heard Boone fire, and a gaping hole appeared in the right soldier's chest. He fell to the ground, dead, but the other was still coming. He steadied his aim and prepared to fire again-

-but a wall of earth slammed into him from the side, sending him tumbling painfully toward the lake. Rory would swear he heard at least one bone snap. Before he could take another breath, another soldier had picked up his fallen comrade's C4 and was going for the door again. He closed about half the distance before Boone drew a bead on him and put a bullet through his gut. He too fell lifeless upon the ground. Several seconds passed without another courier delivering an explosive package. Then Rory saw a legionary toss another grenade through the air toward the door, but it was-

"Flashbang! Shield your-"

It detonated. It felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to Rory's head; his eyes were spinning and his ears were ringing. He vaguely heard Boone take another shot. When his senses came back to him, he saw Korra and Bolin still dazed on the ground, and this time there were three legionaries sprinting for the door. He tried to aim his pistol, but his vision was still blurred; he couldn't draw a bead on their spinning figures. He pulled the trigger anyway, hoping against hope to hit any of them. He didn't. Boone fired again, killing one of them, but the other two were undeterred. They both reached the door; the angle forced Boone to lean out of the window to get a shot off at them. Before he could position himself, the first had planted his explosives on the door. Boone fired, reducing his head to a pulpy mess, but the other was reaching for his detonator. Inside, Korra and Bolin were coherent enough to be staggering away from the door alongside Rory. Boone reloaded as fast as he could, but the soldier managed to thumb the trigger too quickly. He killed himself in a fiery explosion, blasting apart the center of the wall and blowing Boone back into the room. He found his hands empty; the shockwave had wrenched his rifle from his hands onto the ground below! He tried to stand up, but found himself too dizzy and fell back down. He heard the other three stumbling up the stairs, and he knew that the Legion's soldiers wouldn't be far behind.

Rory holstered his pistol and pulled his marksman carbine off his back.

"Korra, Bolin, we have to defend this stairway at all costs, you hear me? This is a chokepoint, so there'll only be a few at a time, but we have to stop them before they reach the top."

Boone struggled up onto one knee. "Rory!" he said, swaying slightly. "They're almost all out of cover, seventy of them, and they're swarming here. We can't face those odds in close quarters; we just can't."

Rory grimaced. "That many?" He swore under his breath. "You're right, we can't. But what else can we do? Jumping out the window would just break our legs and make us even easier to capture."

Suddenly, Bolin's eyes lit up. "No, we can!" He turned to Korra. "I'm gonna need your help, alright? We jump out, and-"

Korra grinned. "Box them in? Oh yes, Bolin, I'm with you." She faced Rory and Boone. "Okay, we have to wait for as many as possible to get into the house first." She made a strained lifting motion with both arms. "Okay, there's a stone barricade down there blocking stair access now. It won't take long to break, but it'll delay them long enough. Boone! How many are left out there?"

"Six!"

Korra bit her lip. "It'll have to be good enough; they'll use those explosives to blast through the rock any second now. Okay, everyone, out the window! Now!"

None of them hesitated. They leapt through the open window, and for a second, they were suspended twenty feet above the ground. Bolin yanked a column of stone up to catch them, and it carried them quickly down.

"Rory! Boone!" Korra shouted, turning toward the house. "Keep the ones outside off us!" She and Bolin together raised a massive slab of rock up, covering the entire front of the house, blocking any exit.

Rory and Boone split the battleground up the middle, laying down suppressing fire on their half. If a head popped out of cover, they hit it. One tried to run to a broken chunk of wall for cover from behind a dilapidated building, and took a bullet in the leg for it. He tumbled to the ground, cursing silently.

Behind them, the two benders were moving like dancers. Bolin and Korra swept out in opposite directions. A twenty-foot-deep chasm yawned open beneath the house, and the structure collapsed in on itself as it fell in. Not a single legionary inside could get to them now.

They turned towards the sharpshooter pair, who had lowered their weapons- no more legionaries over there, either, save for the one writhing in the dirt. The four of them trudged over to the man, whose blood was turning the dirt a muddy red.

Korra looked at Rory. "What should we do with-"

"Why are you here?" Rory asked the man, ignoring Korra's question.

The man said nothing in response.

"I asked you a question!" Rory bellowed, stepping on the man's leg. His groans grew more agonizing. "We can heal you, but only if you tell us why you're here!"

"Because Caesar wills it!" the man shrieked through pained tears.

"Don't give me that!" the courier roared in response. "Caesar wouldn't send troops past the dam into House's territory. So why. Are. You. HERE?" He pressed harder on the soldier's leg.

The man began to scream in pain. "AUGUSTUS AUTUMN!" he groaned before passing out.

Rory stepped off his leg. "Augustus Autumn?"

"Who's that?" Korra asked.

"He's…the leader of the Eastern Enclave, but why would…oh no."

"What?"

Rory turned to Korra. "If he's here, in the west, that means he's expanding. He has control over the east coast, and now he's going for the west. He's trying to conquer the Mojave. And he's got the entire Legion under his thumb to help him do it."

** Alright, so there's chapter three! Sorry it took so long, I don't have an excuse besides being busy with college. I promise I'll try to update more frequently in the future…Anyways, that's it for today! Sayonara!**


	5. Chapter 5

**The Price of Failure, Part IV**

**Eastern Influences**

**Hello again, everybody. You may have noticed that this story is now several chapters shorter than it was before. That's because I'm doing an extensive edit of it. So as not to spoil newcomers, I'll keep this vague, but some things that were introduced were introduced too quickly, with little to no foreshadowing. I'm rewriting things from chapter four onwards, so that it'll hopefully be a bit better paced. Anyways, leave your questions, comments or concerns in the reviews!**

Boone stared at the soldier lying limply on the ground in front of them. "The Enclave had a branch in the east?"

"Yeah," Rory replied. "Well, actually, they _have_ a branch in the east. I've got a…friend in D.C. who updates me on the region's status every so often, but nothing she's given me has even suggested they were mobilizing toward the West. I mean, they're the dominant power on the east coast, but I kinda thought they were staying there. After they seized the water purifier about four years back, it really looked like they were just going to solidify their hold there. Looks like I was wrong."

Bolin and Korra were lost. "So, uh…what do we do?" the Avatar asked, scratching the back of her neck. "I'll file 'the Enclave' under 'to ask about later', but it's easy to see that they're some really bad guys. So what's the plan?"

Rory leaned against a wall and covered his eyes. "Well, I have to tell Mr. House about it. If we've got the Enclave here, he's really the only one with the resources to combat them. Well, with the resources to combat them and who doesn't hate my guts. I get the feeling the NCR would just as soon see the Mojave under Enclave control as ours. But…I did make a promise to help you find the rest of the crew, and I try not to make promises lightly."

There was silence for a second as everyone was consumed in thought.

"You know," Korra said, crossing her arms, "even if you're not with us on this particular search party, you can still help. I mean, as depressing as it sounds, we're probably going to be at this for a while. And it's clear that this is some pretty serious news, so…you can go report back to the boss, and the three of us can get on with it. And hey, you can always catch up to us once you've gone and made your report."

"You sure, Korra?"

She nodded. "No doubt. Get it done, and then get back, got it?"

Rory grinned, and gave a sloppy salute. "Yes, boss. Consider it done." He looked at the entire group. "Alright guys, I'll see you around. Boone, keep 'em safe, will you?"

Boone simply nodded silently.

"Thanks." He took one last look at them. "Well…alright, guys, I'll be back." With those words, he turned around and took off back toward New Vegas at a jog.

"Come back soon!" Bolin yelled through cupped hands.

* * *

"I'm guessing it would be kind of stupid to try to find shelter in…what's the town's name? Nipton?"

Arcade nodded. "Yeah, just a _bit _dangerous. Well, unless you like being crucified. Not my thing, but hey, whatever floats your boat."

"So, then…where can we go? I got here from the Mojave Outpost because both roads at the intersection looked pretty dead. Figured that since both looked the same, might as well flip a coin. I suppose it didn't work so well."

"Okay, look, Mako," Arcade said, looking faux-nonchalantly over his shoulder toward the town. "I'd love to stand around chatting with you about how we both hate the Legion and how screwed we are in the desert, but maybe we should do it while we're not in spitting distance of an outpost of Caesar's men, huh?"

"Oh. Uh, right. Sorry," Mako said sheepishly. "Okay, if we're going, you should probably be able to defend yourself. That guy had a gun; I guess you could take that."

Arcade was already ahead of him, appropriating the man's firearm along with several clips of ammunition. "Alright, we've got…twenty, twenty one…twenty six rounds of ammo total for a nine millimeter pistol." He looked toward his partner, deadpan. "Let's try not to run into anything _too _dangerous, alright?"

Mako was starting to get exasperated; Arcade wasn't answering his first question. "Look, Arcade, I get that we're in danger here, but I still need to know _where to go._ Just 'away from here' is gonna get us killed. So which direction can we go in to get to a place that's not going to savagely murder us?"

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." He said absently, scanning the desert vista in front of them. "I'm gonna say that you should have taken the other road, the north one. Well, no, actually, you shouldn't have, because then I'd still be hanging up there, but it would have been better for you, at least."

"Really? What was up the other road?"

Arcade began to walk back down the road Mako had been on. "Less talking, more getting as far away from here as humanly possible." Mako jogged up beside him, and he started talking again. "But as to what's up the other road, well, it's pretty much the opposite of Nipton here. Primm's a very hospitable place, and, as far as I know, not occupied by people who'll crucify you for fun."

"Primm, huh?" Mako said, shading his eyes. "Alright, let's get going, then."

"I tell you," Arcade said drily, "It's going to be great fun getting there with half a canteen of water. Half a day in the blistering sun. Again-great fun."

Mako liked his new companion's snark- it reminded him of Korra. They marched on the blazing pavement for about an hour, taking sips of the water as infrequently as possible. Mako filled Arcade in on his situation, and to his credit, the doctor took it rather well. He didn't even say that he thought he was crazy. As they walked, Arcade filled him in on world history- the Old World and the last few weeks in particular.

"I hope you don't mind me saying so, but all of this stuff makes this place seem…not so great to live."

The doctor shrugged. "Oh, don't worry. That's what pretty much everyone else thinks too. But what can you do?"

"Well, for one, I'm hoping that I can get back to Republic City, 'cause I'm starting to feel sick of this place. Literally, I mean. Ever since I've been here, I've felt weaker than before, and kind of nauseous."

Gannon raised an eyebrow. "Really? What have….Oh, I see. That's probably just your body getting used to the miniscule amounts of background radiation that covers pretty much the entire world. You'll adjust to it in time."

"You mean there's nowhere I can go where I won't feel like this?" Mako said incredulously.

"Sorry, nope. Well, until you get back to Republic City. Sounds like a pretty great place. Hell, maybe I'll come with you myself."

"Uh, I guess. Say, why did they tie you up back there?"

Gannon turned to look at him. "Oh, you mean why I was hanging out back there? You see, I'm a member of the Followers of the Apocalypse- oh, they're a group that gathers Old World Tech and uses it to help the rest of the population. Anyway, I was a doctor for the Followers. You know who else was a member of the Followers?"

Mako shrugged. "How would I know?"

Arcade continued on, ignoring his question. "Caesar was. And when it turns out that Caesar's got a brain tumor that needs cutting out, who do you think they turn to? Me. Oh, and by 'turn to', I mean 'kidnap in the middle of the night'. So they take me to this hole, and ask me to be Caesar's physician. Asked really nicely, too-they only threatened to break my shins, not my neck. As my friend Rory can tell you, the only thing I hate more than the Legion is the Caesar himself. So of course I say no. And then they ask me to reconsider- gave me a lot of time to consider, in fact, free of distractions like lack of pain and adequate hydration. That's when you come in, untying me like a true knight. Thanks for that."

Mako was about to respond when he saw Gannon's expression change from normal to what could only be described as "inevitable resignation". He turned around himself and saw why.

"Yeah, of course they're coming," Gannon sighed. "It was only a matter of time before that legionary got back on his feet and told his commander. We can't take on a century of eighty Legion troops. So, you want to surrender, or eat a bullet? 'Cause I can tell you right now that shooting yourself would be far less painful than what they've got in store for us."

Mako turned to his companion, aghast. "Eat a bullet? You mean…No, of course not!"

Gannon looked at him flatly. "So what do we do? Run? They're well-fed, incredibly fit soldiers- they'd catch us in no time. Fight? We've got one gun. Surrender? They'll crucify us if we're lucky. That bullet's looking tastier every second."

Mako growled. Eighty well-armed soldiers were headed their way, fairly distant, but getting closer every second. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head- a risky idea, but really, anything was better than this.

"Okay, Gannon," Mako said to the doctor fondling the gun. "Get on my back."

He merely raised an eyebrow. "Dare I ask why?"

"Because you were right- we can't get away from them on foot. But if we're not on foot…"

Gannon sighed, and holstered his pistol. "You know what? Okay. If you think we can get away, I'm all for it." He climbed onto Mako's back, and the firebender was surprised at how light he was. How long had they been starving him?

"Gannon, I need you to point me towards Primm."

"What, by road, or-"

"As the cheetahcrow flies, Gannon, Now!"

"It's, uh, northwest." He pointed in the appropriate direction. As soon as he had done it, Mako heard bullets whizzing by them. They had to go- now.

"Alright, Doc, hold on tight!"

"Hold on tight? What do you meaaaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

* * *

Mako's heart was racing. He had never tried this before; he had only seen Iroh do it. Still, it couldn't be that hard, right? A shot whizzed past his ear and he knew he really didn't have a choice.

"Alright, Doc, hold on tight!" he said, taking a deep breath.

"Hold on tight? What do you meaaaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

Flames jetted from Mako's palms with a high-pitched whistle, like one would hear from a blowtorch. Slowly, the gouts of fire pushed him off the ground into the air. His arms were shaking unsteadily as he started to accelerate, moving faster now, hovering several feet over the uneven road. He was feeling a bit more confident in his abilities now; the streams of flame were roaring now, and he shot off over the desert. He could do it. He could-

Something smacked into his leg; it felt like a lion ant had taken its jaws to his calf. He cried out involuntarily, losing control of his jets. The duo slammed onto the dusty ground, flipping painfully a few times before rolling to a halt.

Arcade coughed a few times, then groaned. "You…urgh…you can fly? Bet that's, hngh, a useful skill."

Mako struggled onto his good knee. His left leg was throbbing like nobody's business, and covered in blood from a hole drilled through his calf. He could stand, barely, so it hadn't hit bone, but he wasn't sure he could support Gannon like again. He flopped onto the ground, belly down, and saw the Legion marching inexorably toward them. No choice. He forced himself to look at his calf wound. First priority- stop himself from bleeding out. He put his palm over the smaller of the wounds and grit his teeth. Fire should cauterize the wound, just do it quick, do it quick, do it-

"Hraaaaaaaagh!" Mako choked out. He had cauterized that wound alright. It felt like a hundred fire ants had simultaneously bitten into his leg. Grunting and sweating, he shakily placed his blood-soaked hand over the larger exit wound on the other side of his leg. He gritted his teeth, and inhaled deeply.

There was no scream this time; his mouth gaped silently like a fish gasping for air as he collapsed into a heap, quivering in pain. His vision dimmed. No, he couldn't black out, not now! He fought to breathe regularly, and his eyes cleared up.

Okay, wounds closed. Next. Escape. He forced himself onto his legs- they felt a bit sturdier now, but not much. It would have to be enough. He staggered over to Arcade.

"Get on."

"What?" he replied. "But you're-"

"Get. _On_. Doc."

Arcade pushed himself up from the ground, climbing lithely onto Mako's back. He seemed heavier this time; Mako's leg nearly buckled. He growled a curse, and took one step forward, placing his palms downward again.

"The infantry are getting in range!" Gannon said anxiously.

Bullets slapped into the dusty ground around them. No time. Come on, move. _Move!_ He grunted as flames roared into life. Liftoff once again. He focused the fiery streams, raising their intensity. More bullets now. Go. _Go! _Finally, they roared out over the desert toward the arms of Primm, and the Legion ceased to exist for them.

* * *

"A visitor?"

"That's right, pardner!" Victor replied. "Right purty girl, too! Came by not more than an hour ago. Didn't give me her name, but she had a real honest-lookin' face, so I sent her on up to the cocktail lounge to wait for you!"

Rory looked at Victor, deadpan. "You let someone you didn't know into the Lucky 38 because her face looked honest?"

"Oh, don't be like that, boss!" Victor replied. "I guarantee that she don't mean any harm!"

Rory shrugged. "Alright, whatever. But that's not why I'm back, Vic. I need to talk to House- got some really important information."

"Well, sure thing! I'll call the elevator for you."

The short ride up was wholly uneventful, though Victor's comments had left him wondering who this visitor of his was.

He stepped out of the elevator and leapt over the railing, passing through the curtain that led to the room.

"Ah, Mr. McKinnon, it's good to see you're back," Mr. House greeted him in his calm, even voice. "Though I must confess it's a bit earlier than I suspected. What brings you back?"

Rory folded his arms. "Mr. House, we've got a problem. The eastern Enclave is coming west."

House's face remained static. "Yes, I am in fact aware of that."

"Mr. House, we have to- wait, what? You _knew_ this?"

A slight tone of bemusement crept through his employer's voice. "Of course, Mr. McKinnon. Do you honestly think that with an information network like mine that a force as massive as the Enclave could escape my notice?"

Now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure why he hadn't realized just that. "Okay, but why didn't you tell me about them?"

"Simply because you didn't need to know. Had it become necessary that you be aware of their presence, I would have told you."

Rory bristled. "Mr. House, I must say I don't like being kept in the dark."

"I'm sorry, Mr. McKinnon, but as long as you are my lieutenant, it's something you're going to have to get used to. You don't need to worry, I only have New Vegas's best interests at heart. You know that."

He sighed. "I know, Mr. House, I know. Alright, I understand. But what are we going to do about the Enclave?"

"Do? Nothing. They're not currently a threat, and potentially a valuable customer. We can't afford to alienate them until that ceases to be true."

"What?" Rory couldn't comprehend what he was hearing. "Are you serious? The Enclave are some of the most bloodthirsty murderers to step foot on this planet! We can't consider them potential customers!"

"If you recall, Caesar's Legion received that same description. From you, Mr. McKinnon."

"And if you don't recall, we kicked them out of New Vegas! Just like we should do with the Enclave!"

"Not until we had to. They were the only thing keeping the NCR from taking us over. One must keep the balance of power in mind, lieutenant."

"There is no 'balance of power'! There's _us, _and there's _them._ Seems pretty clear cut to me, _boss._"

House was silent for a moment. "I take it you've had prior experience with them?"

He breathed out. "Not me, no. But…someone I know, someone very close to me, was in D.C. when they deployed the FEV that killed ninety-five percent of the population. That person made it out, but…Mr. House, I can't stand by while we do business with people that consider genocide a viable tactic."

"I…I promise I will consider your input, Mr. McKinnon. In the meantime, you may want to pay a visit to the stranger in the cocktail lounge. You're dismissed."

"Thank you, Mr. House. Make sure to keep me informed."

* * *

Thoughts of the Enclave in the Mojave poisoned Rory's mind, much like they had poisoned the water in the Capital Wasteland. He walked out of the elevator in a daze, looking absently for whomever it was that was in the lounge. He couldn't see anybody at the bar itself, or any of the tables. He strolled around the circular room, and his breath caught in his chest. Of all the people Vic might have let in, it had never occurred to him that it might be this one.

She sat in a booth by the window, gazing out the window and looking really bored. In her hand was a bottle of whiskey, half-full. She heard his footsteps and turned to look at him. A wry smile crossed her lips, and her green eyes shone with warmth underneath her short brown hair. The girl slipped out from behind the table and sauntered over to him, plain clothes striking simply because of the fact that she was the one wearing them. She walked right up to Rory, and flashed a sultry smile at him that made his heart skip a beat.

"Been a while, Rory."

Rory was having a hard time remembering to breathe. After six years, he could still recall her voice like a crystal bell, pure and sweet. She had always said that she would come to him, and she had. Of course she had, he had never doubted her! Without him knowing it, tears began to well up in his eyes.

"Amy…Oh, Amy, it's been so long…"

He gripped her in a vice-like hug, pressing his face into her hair, taking in her scent.

Now the tears were flowing freely. Six years he had gone with only letters from her, the only token of his beloved written on cheap paper. He treasured them, but they could only tide him over for so long before he had to see her again.

"Wow, Rory, you don't see your wife for six years and you start bawling? You're such a crybaby."

He sniffed, and wiped his eyes. "Yes, lass, I suppose I am. You can tease me about it, but I don't really care. Because…Because every time your letter came late, I worried myself sick. Spying on the Enclave isn't the safest job, and…I don't know what I would've done if you'd…" He choked up for a second. "But you're fine, and you're here, and you're even more beautiful than I remember you."

She gripped him back. "You sure know how to flatter a girl, don't you, Rory? I missed you too, you fiery-headed potato-eater."

He let go of her, save for her hand, which he clasped tightly.

"All right, what say we grab something strong to drink and find a place to sit down? I think we both have a lot that we should talk about."

* * *

"Do you like what you see, Miss Sato?" Corporal Nicholas said, walking along the halls of the Mobile Command Crawler. "The Enclave has the best technology is the Wasteland, bar none. No one is more well-armed, or more well-defended, than us. Not only that, but we are among the best-disciplined, cohesive fighting forces in the world."

Asami didn't say anything. She was still staring wide-eyed at everything around her. Her father had been on the bleeding edge of technology, but this…this was light years ahead of anything she had ever seen.

"Miss Sato?" Nicholas said, tapping her on the shoulder. "It's getting late. We have spare lodging for you if you need it…Miss Sato?"

"Hmm?" she was startled out of her stupor by his question. "Oh, uh…yes, I guess. That would be good."

"Excellent!" he said, smiling warmly. "Follow me; it's not too far."

As she walked behind him, she faintly heard him drone about virtues, and America, and wars, but she wasn't hearing any of it. She saw screens displaying information completely baffling to her, but it drew her eyes like raw meat to a starving dog. If she could just get an hour, even thirty minutes with some of this, she knew she could glean something incredible from it.

They finally stopped in front of a rectangular door in cut out of a steel-grey wall.

"Here is your room, Miss Sato," Nicholas said, opening the door. "It has all the necessary amenities, and if you require food or drink, the mess hall is at the end of the passage to the left of the door."

"Oh. Uh…Thank you, Corporal." She stepped into the room. It was small but functional, with a bed, nightstand, and a separate bathroom.

Nicholas began to turn away before suddenly stopping.

"Oh, Miss Sato? Please don't stray from here or the mess hall without a guide. The weapons testing area is nearby, and it would be very dangerous to wander around. Either one of my superiors or I will be along in the morning to brief you on what will happen. All right?"

She just nodded. "Great!" he said. "Have a good night, ma'am." And with that, Nicholas was gone.

Asami sat down on the bed, the corporal's last words about not exploring ringing through her head. He was right, but…she couldn't help it. She started to stand up.

Out of nowhere, a sudden, a great black cloud hit her mind like a battering ram- something like a horrible memory that had once been repressed. When she thought of looking around the crawler, an eldritch dread pounded at her nerves. What was going on?

She stumbled back onto the bed, breathing heavily. What was that? Whatever it was, she no longer wanted to go exploring. Some ancient, primordial fear gripped at her soul when she considered the option. She shuddered. It seemed that she would be taking Corporal Nicholas's advice. Just take a shower and go to bed.

Still trembling, she walked toward the bathroom door, opening it slowly. It was a small military affair, all immaculate white tiles and straight edges. The shower stall seemed a little small, but at this point, Asami would have taken a bucket and a sponge. Turning around, she saw a small set of drawers next to the bed. She searched the drawers and found a set of flannel nightwear, designed to be worn by either gender. She pulled the clothes out and strode back to the bathroom. Turning the knobs to set the water as hot as it could go, she set the nightwear on the sink before stepping behind the fog-covered plastic curtain.

Oh, hot water. She hadn't been able to take a single shower in the several days she had been in the wastes- this was heaven. The steam invaded her dust-clogged sinuses, letting her finally breathe easily. The accumulated sweat, dirt and grime of the Mojave was swept off her body and down the drain. She lingered in the shower for a good half-hour before drying off with a white towel that was neither especially rough nor unusually soft. She pulled the clothes on, drying her hair vigorously with the towel.

She hadn't realized just how stiff her joints had become from not sleeping on anything soft in forever. Asami slowly walked over to the bed, falling gratefully onto the inviting surface, warm and content, the strange black memory from before fading from her mind. She didn't even bother pulling the covers over herself before she fell into a deep slumber.

Unfortunately, sleep brought Asami no respite. The black cloud from before returned with a vengeance in the hazy netherworld of her dreams, a great shadowy mass, whose dreadful black form was burned into her mind's eye like a red-hot brand.

In her dreamscape, Asami was stranded in a dead city, with its cyclopean architecture hewn from stone as black as night. Passageways extended in every direction, and bizarre, alien geometries warped her vision with impossible shapes. She tried to walk down one, and while her feet would move she could no more leave her spot than a stone could carry itself up a mountain.

As she gazed around the massive city, the black cloud returned once more; the old familiar fear began to press itself down on her, smothering all rational thought, replacing it with nothing but an all-encompassing dread. She turned her head, and saw it.

Looming like a colossal revenant, the shadow burned with an unholy darkness. It turned ponderously towards her, and as it gazed upon her, she found herself unable to breathe. This unnamed horror motioned as if beckoning her to itself. Suddenly, unwillingly, she was hurtling down the strange hallway of black stone in its direction. What would happen when she reached it? What was this thing? Why did it want her?

"Miss Sato? Miss Sato, are you awake?"

She jerked awake, sweat covering her brow. Shaking, she peered around the room. Same as when she went to sleep. Just a dream…

"Miss Sato," Nicholas said, knocking on the door again. "This is your wake-up call. Would you like to go to the mess hall for some breakfast?"

She found her voice. "Y…Yes, Corporal. I'll be out in just a minute."

As she found a new change of clothes, she couldn't help but dwell on that dream. What was that? It had felt so real. So terrifyingly real… But still, it was just a dream. She did her best to put it out of her mind. It worked.

Mostly.


End file.
